


Alone, For Once

by mooses_gabriel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 03:12:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4003636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mooses_gabriel/pseuds/mooses_gabriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam remembers the first time he had no one to turn to</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alone, For Once

Sam Winchester doesn’t remember the first time John dumped him and Dean off at a daycare while chasing down a lead to the demon that killed Dean and Sam’s mother. He can’t recall the worn white square tiles, the oval rug with the alphabet, or the woman in charge of keeping the children under control while their parents are off to work. He wouldn’t be able to tell you her name, the name of any of the kids, or anything that happened because he didn’t remember. He didn’t have too.

Sam has no recollection of this day because Dean was there to watch out for him. Sure, little wide eyed Sam was too young to remember this day anyway, but it wouldn’t have been scary enough to note because he wasn’t alone. Dean was there, somewhere, and that’s what mattered. Dean was always there.

Until he wasn’t.

Not that it was Dean’s fault, eight years old and already able to shoot with deadly accuracy. John told him he’d be going to school while he chased Azazel, and that Sam would keep going to daycare until he started kindergarten. Until now, John had been able to find buildings that had a wide enough age range of younger kids that Dean was in the Sam building as Sam, but in this small New Hampshire town there wasn’t one. Dean protested, saying he promised to look after his brother, and how could he do that when he was several miles away listening to a teacher read Junie B. Jones?

John put his foot down, not having another choice and knowing it was going to happen sooner or later. He will wonder, later in life, if he should have done it sooner when he looks at his sons and see’s the way they cling to each other because it’s all they have know. He will wonder, when Sam leaves and goes to college, how many times Dean will set the table with a spot for his brother before staring at the empty chair and putting the plate away, how many times Sam looked at his phone and wanted to see if they were okay. Their father would never guess how many midnights they saw because they were too worried about the other’s safety to fall asleep, when Sam stopped carrying a knife in his backpack – if he ever did, old habits die hard – and on what day Dean could look at a box of Lucky Charms without knowing he’d give the last bowl to feed his brother, even if it meant not eating.

So on the day he left Sam alone at the daycare, when Sam waited for Dean to follow him to a corner away from the louder kids, John wasn’t surprised to see Dean start after his brother and then freeze and glance up at him. John put a hand on Dean’s shoulder then told the lady he was just dropping off Sam. Being rather bright for his age, Sam quickly put two and two together and latched himself to Dean.

It’s hard to see a child seek comfort in a sibling who was always there, knowing there will be times when they will find none. Dean crouched down to his brother’s height and tried to smile. Sam’s lip trembled, and John knew Dean would do anything to stop the tears that were coming next. As Dean told Sam it wasn’t that bad, and that he would be back before Sam could say good bye, John place a hand on Dean’s shoulder. Time to go, the glance to the waiting Impala said. Sam held onto Dean for all he was worth.

John had to pull them apart.

The lady took Sam’s hand as the tears welled up in his eyes. His breath stuttered as he trying to say something, anything, to convince them not to leave him. The attempt never became words. John led a stubborn Dean back to the car, and sighed when he crawled into the back and glared out the side window. Looking in the rearview window, John could see Sam’s hand pressed against the front window of the daycare, nose red and runny as tears slipped down from his eyes.

Dean turned around, and the two sons stared at each other until they were two far. Dean went back to pouting, and Sam reluctantly followed the kind lady to a room with kids his age. They left him alone, for which he was grateful because they wouldn’t protect him, and they weren’t as caring as his big brother. The lady watched him for awhile, and would ponder years later, if she should have told John about the way Sam hunched into a ball for the first few hours, and after refused to speak. She wondered if she should have asked if he doesn’t take naps, and why he was so jumpy when the other kids would make loud noises.

Sam didn’t wonder about anything, not on purpose. He didn’t like to think that the two people he knew had left him with strangers, had left him to sit in the dark during naptime to watch the shadows. It was hard enough, knowing they would be doing the every time. He wasn’t stupid, he knew dad didn’t take Dean with him to… well Sam wasn’t sure what his dad’s job was but he knew Dean didn’t go. Sam couldn’t see why he and Dean couldn’t just wait for their father to get home in one of the motel rooms, eating cereal, watching TV, and being together. One brother felt less alone than ten screaming toddlers.

He did, however, remember that day. Not that Sam liked to think about it, one of his earliest clear memories being the smudges his fingers left on the glass as Dean looked sorry in the rear window of the Impala, the small bit of snot that dried onto his sleeve from wiping his nose, the itchy feeling in his eyes when he stopped crying, and the sore feeling from sitting hunched in a ball while he wondering when they’d be back. Sam doesn’t remember his first day of daycare, but he’s haunted by his first day alone. He could count the number of times he would remember that day at random, and when driving past a daycare his fingers would stiffen, just slightly, on the wheel as he wondered how many kids felt abandoned without someone to watch out for them. It’s hard to forgive, especially when it was an action that couldn’t be avoided and wasn’t really anyone’s fault but left you feeling terrible all the same. It’s harder to hide how it bothers you, because you know there’s no one to blame and it’s just one of things in life that happens and it hurts even though it wasn’t supposed to.

It’s impossible to forget.

**Author's Note:**

> This turned out much more sad than I meant it to. I think I've watched the Hillywood Show's SPN parody more than enough. But it's sooo well done. And less painful than the season ten finale.
> 
> ~Ashley


End file.
